“But,why? What’s the point behind all the lying and secrecy? Are you Fae too?” The questions start spilling from me, more popping up with every answer.
“The why is a rather lengthy explanation that would be better seen than told. Yes, I’m Fae, but I’m not your aunt.” I start to speak out against this life-altering revelation, but she holds up her hand, halting me in my attempt. “As I was saying, I am notyour aunt by blood, but Iwasa very close confidante of your parents. That part was mostly true. It’s why they entrusted me with your safekeeping.”
“My parents… They were both Fae?”
“Areboth Fae, my dear.”
Are…?
Are.
“They’re alive?” The question comes out as a rushed exhale.
“I mean, they’re certainly quite old at this point, but last I spoke with them, yes. They were very much alive and well. They ask after you each time we speak.”
The fact that Fleur has been speaking with my parents all this time that I’ve thought them dead cracks something in me. “H-How often do you speak with them?”
“Well, it all depends really. But it’s usually once every couple of months. Samhain and Beltane are the best times, for reasons I’m sure you can understand." She shoots me a knowing glance.
“So, if you speak to them so often and they ask after me all the time, thenwhy didn’t they want me?” My voice is fraying at the seams. My vision tunneling. They’ve been alive this entire time. And yet didn’t care enough to want me around. They didn’t want me.
I begin to pace around the room. My thoughts are spinning so fast, I’m dizzy. There’s a fist wrapped around my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Tom’s question from Samhain clangs through me like an off-pitch gong.
You know for a fact that they’re dead?
I thought I did…
That crack widens further with every new piece of information about my parents.
“Oh, my sweet child. They did want you. In fact, they prayed to the gods for you. For over a century. But your birth… it camewith an incredibly high cost. One that puts your life in danger. So yes, they sent you away with meto keep you safe. Not because they didn’t want you,” she lets out a defeated sigh. “Here, take a seat,” Fleur gestures to a small chair she’s pulled up to her bedside table. “Let me show you.”
“Show me?”
“With magic, dear,” she says with a conspiratorial grin.
Once I’ve sat, she sets about mixing several herbs and leaves—some I recognize and others I don’t—into her mortar and pestle before grinding the mixture until it forms a fine dust. She moves to stand in front of me with a small pile resting in her palm. “Now, close your eyes. Once this dust hits your eyelids, you’ll be able to see everything from that day. It’ll feel real but think of it as more of a dreamscape. It’s not quite the same as the dream walking that some can do, but I can still have my own fun with it,” she says with a wink. “You won’t be able to interact with anything and they won’t be able to see you.”
I hesitate for only a moment before I close my eyes as instructed and feel the dusting of the powder settling across my eyelids and the apples of my cheeks as Fleur gently blows at the dust.
My head spins, the dizziness doing nothing to help with the nausea that still simmers deep following the trip through the portal.
When everything settles, I open my eyes and find myself standing in a wintery forest. There’s snow gathered on the ground and clinging to the branches of the evergreen branches above. The trees stretch so high it looks as if they're trying to scratch the sky and just between their tops, I can barely make out the peaks of mountain ranges.
What is this place?
“This is the Twilight Veil,” I startle as Fleur’s voice permeates into the vision.
The Twilight Veil. I vaguely recall Bastian mentioning it when he was explaining to me the conflict between the courts.
I look ahead to see a group of Fae gathered around what looks like an oversized… cauldron?
“That would be the Crucible of Destiny. It allows powerful seers to discern possible futures.”
The Fae are gathered on either side of the crucible. The ones on the left side clothed in finery in shades of reds, golds, whites, and greens. Those on the right side are clothed in attire just as elaborate but in shades of blacks, grays, blues, and violets. Almost identical to the shades I recall from my glimpses of the Unseelie’s Samhain celebrations—and essentially all of Bastian’s wardrobe. The two sides of Alinea’s Fae. The crucible between them as a buffer.
“One hundred and twenty years ago, King Oberon and Queen Diana of the Seelie Court brought their closest advisors and courtiers to a glade in the Twilight Veil.” As she recites the tale, I can see a man and a woman approaching the crowd. Her arm is looped through his and grips it as if she cannot stand to be any farther apart than that. They’re both dressed in elaborate finery in shades that match those of the other Seelie Fae gathered. They give off an air of regality between their attire and the way they carry themselves. The jeweled crowns they wear atop their heads do nothing but support that observation. King Oberon and Queen Diana, if I had to hazard a guess. I can’t see much of their features from this distance, but I can tell they’re tall with delicate features that look as if they belong on the face of royalty. They both have golden hair that mimics the glow of the sun, even in this dimly lit glade. “This in-between land dividing the Seelie and Unseelie Court lands, is the only true neutral ground in Alinea. They gathered here to commune with the Fates. As a show of goodwill between the two courts, Oberon and Diana also invited the regents fromthe Unseelie Court. The Unseelie’s King Caliban and Queen Tatiana attended the gathering along with their little prince, only a decade into life.” Looking back to where the Unseelie are gathered, I am able to make out which are the King and Queen and even spy a small child hiding behind the skirts of his mother’s gown. Caliban and Tatiana look diametrically opposed to Oberon and Diana. Where they reflect the light and shine brighter, Caliban and Tatiana suck all light from around them. They’re darkness incarnate. But they’re also hauntingly beautiful. All sharp edges and steely glares. And the raven perched on Tatiana’s shoulder sends a shiver up my spine.
